


The Apostate and the Exile

by asmallkitten



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Advisor Hawke, Alternate Universe - Avvar, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apostates (Dragon Age), Avvar, Avvar Cullen, Homeric Elements, Homeric Influences, Multi, Omens & Portents, Slow Burn, Swordplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 02:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7740112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asmallkitten/pseuds/asmallkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sing to me bard, of the man, the man of force and fire...<br/>exiled from his clan for a grave mistake<br/>and doomed not to return until<br/>a great deed is his.</p><p>Sing to me of the woman, a tempest in slight form<br/>small as a child with magic to rival the fade<br/>alone for the longest of time<br/>just trying to keep her head</p><p>Sing of their love which nearly was not<br/>a thousand times tried and tested<br/>by friend and foe alike<br/>and especially their own false judgement</p><p>Of the war which was fought, please sing,<br/>in this realm and the next<br/>green holes torn between the two<br/>the makeshift army of all races,<br/>colours, creeds, shapes and sizes<br/>and the mark that unites them all<br/>and the symbol that unites them all<br/>and the great enemy that they face</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Apostate and the Exile

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello hello! This is (yet another) new series, I know I'm super slow with updates and I need to get past the first chapter of ALItD but this came so naturally and I'm really excited about it. It begins before the conclave (I'm going to say about a fortnight but it's subject to change) and Cullen is going to become a companion instead of an advisor :^) And due to the circumstances leading up to the events of the story, some relationship dynamics will be very different from the other universes (I guess that's a given but idk heh). There will be avvar moments interspersed with canon events/quests 'cause this is an Avvar AU after all! Also this story is gonna have lots of Homeric elements cause I adore the Iliad the Odyssey and I thought it would be really interesting to try and incorporate some techniques of his. I think that's all I wanted to say? Sorry for this awkward aside and I really really hope you enjoy it! ♪ ♬ ヾ(´︶`♡)ﾉ ♬ ♪

     Cullen of the Flashing Eyes, second in-line for Thaneship over the powerful hold of the Lion of the Sun had been in exile for little over a month in search of he-knew-not-yet-what. His quest for timē – the honour of his people – had been fruitless as of yet. There were some menial good deeds to his name but nothing so significant to earn him a place back within his home. 

It was a lot hotter than is generally expected in Ferelden; the sun at its height in the bright and cloudless sky. This was not helped by the terrain of the Southron Hills and their endless pattern of hill, valley, hill, valley.

     The warrior huffed in discomfort, he’d been nicked by an arrow some days ago and the wound – though small – had become swollen and painful. Surveying the area he was relieved to spot a bush of roses in the near distance, three or four of the blooms would make a decent anti-inflammatory poultice.

     There was something off about the large shrub however, some of the stems seemed bent out of place and there were a few decapitated flowers nearby. Intrigued, the Avvar did a quick survey and from no angle could he discern much more of an abnormality in the plant until bending down, he was shocked to discover a young woman asleep under thorn and petal.

      “A girl?” he muttered to himself

She was small – nearly child-sized – and dressed in a ragged tunic that swamped her petite form, the hair surrounding her was a dark brown, extremely long and tangled, littered with leaves and bits of grass. Peering more closely, keen-eyed Cullen noted the stranger was completely covered in freckles and pale in the extreme with delicate, symmetrical features. It was as if this specimen were a life-size porcelain doll, tossed aside from a carriage by the ill-tempered, spoiled bairn of a noble family.

But the warrior was mistaken, for this was no discarded doll.

     Suddenly the haunting blue-silver eyes of the sleeping beauty snapped open, she sat slightly upwards and looked rapidly around herself before – after visibly wincing at something behind him – seizing him by the pelt and lugging him into the shrub as well. There is no way she would have succeeded had he not been crouched and he narrowly avoided crushing her, landing on his back in the dirt.

“What-“ he went to ask before being silenced by a cool palm over his mouth, he wrenched the hand away with some annoyance. “Get off me.”

     “Please.” Came a desperate whisper, akin to the tinkling of wind chimes.

     Cullen was almost too struck to reply. “Are you alright, lass?”

     “Be quiet!” she hissed.

     He followed her line of sight to see two Templar knights progressing up the track. This confused the Avvar, _Templars? Are_ _they not emblems of protection in the lowlands? Why is she hiding from them? Is she a criminal?_

     “Why must you hide from them?” He asked solemnly, speaking at a regular level, if she truly was a criminal, he’d be damned if he would pervert the course of justice.

      The girl was visibly trembling, words tumbling out in a flurry “I’m a mage. When I was ten they took me from my home and locked me away in a tower with the rest, a month ago I escaped, and those men – my assigned Templars – have been charged with the task of bringing me back. But they won’t. They’re going to kill me. They’ve tried once already and I barely escaped with my life.”

     “Truly?”

     “Truly, please…”

     Unknowing whether to trust this lady, Cullen made a plea to the gods for guidance, and they delivered it to him in curious fashion.

     Glancing towards the Templars’ promenade he noticed a curious tumult taking place in the airspace above: a swallow was darting about, pursued clumsily by a pair of crows. The small bird was quicker and more aerodynamic but he could see it tiring quickly, dodging the talons of its pursuers more and more narrowly each time they swept for it, until finally one had it caged. Then something even stranger happened. As if from nowhere swooped a golden eagle that – spreading its massive claws – seized the corvids, slamming them into the ground with all the force its mighty wings could muster. The little sparrow – having somehow miraculously survived the fray – shot out of its prison and off in the direction of the forest, and after a while the eagle also flew in the same direction, at a much more leisurely pace.

     Only thirty seconds or so had passed but it was enough, the Avvar knew what to do.

     “What are you doing?!” came a strange sound between a shriek and a whisper, but Cullen was already halfway to reaching the Templars.

 

     Mariella was tensed and ready to spring, still under the shade of the bush. She would get a decent head-start if she started running now but found herself unable to do it just yet, the mysterious barbarian held her in place, his searching gaze – though long gone – still pierced her through and she felt a pang when she considered never seeing it again. She hadn’t used much magic at all in the past couple days so her reserves were full, she would watch the next few moments play out between Avvar and knight and if it came to it, kill them all.

     It didn’t come to it though; the apostate’s eyes bulged out of her skull as she watched the strange man approach the wretched Templars. He unsheathed the greatsword strapped to his back, then waited for the them to bring their own weapons to hand and have at him.

 _For such a large figure he is mightily quick on his feet_ was the thought of Mariella as she watched: the duo were stabbing and hacking desperately at the Avvar. Every blow he either parried or dodged as poised as the dancers she’d looked up to in childhood. Unlike those dancers, however, as the fur-clad zweihander span he took a powerful swing aimed at where armour met cloth on the pair and in a graceful arc, they were cleaved in half at the waist, spilling at fountain of blood and viscera.

    

Unmoved by the gory spectacle, Cullen returned to where the girl waited – half kneeling, half stood – eyes glassy, wide and still rapt upon the place of combat.

    “You’re wel-“ He began but was almost instantaneously brought to his knees, muscles convulsing as shockwaves rippled through his body. The uncontrollable spasms had him paralysed, curled up in the dirt next to the rosebush, and as pain overtook and his consciousness began to fade, he observed a curious mixture of fear and pity in the eyes of his assailant.

      When the warrior awoke he was alone.

 

 


End file.
